Eight Cylinders Firing
by Blackfire 18
Summary: Rayn Krew, in her last semester before graduation, is being taught how to take over the family business; but she doesn't feel ready. Razer is in his last month before retiring from the track. Though forbidden, they meet. And all hell breaks loose.


**Eight Cylinders Firing**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jak X: Combat Racing or any of the characters there within, they are property of Naughty Dog, etc.**

Black gloved fingers tapped on the bar and another drink skimmed the table to the open hand on the other end. Ignoring the handle and wrapping instead around the chilled glass, those same fingers raised the mug to expectant lips. A gulp, then back down again.

He wasn't finished.

Over the soft music playing in the jukebox, a television screen boasting the latest racing scores drowned the conversation of adjacent tables. There was so much to be heard, but so little to listen to. The Bloody Hook was mostly vacant of people; everyone who had the money for tickets were at the arena watching the races. The only people not in attendance were too poor to pay the meager price for tickets, social outsiders who protested against the sport, those sparse few simply not interested, or infamous racers on "paid" vacation.

Only one such person graced the bar that day.

A black trench coat hug tightly to the back hunched over the bar, emerald eyes staring ahead blankly, but ears were perked, listening to the announcements of the race in progress. The man did not move much, though his grip would unconsciously fluctuate on the glass at certain points in the broadcast.

A knit was beginning to form between the man's eyebrows as the announcer's broadcast became more keyed up.

"Edje coming up on the inside, blocking Shiv from passi—HO!—did you see that? That was below the belt Cutter. Edje will need a new tire stat to finish this one, folks. Shiv takes the lead, Cutter hanging close and—what's this? The rookie is making a break for it on the outside! Bold move! WOW! Look at him go! Cutter and Shiv are racing to close the distance and—huh? What is the rook—OH MY GOD! I DON'T BELIEVE IT!"

The roars from the TV were deafening as screams from the audience came in clear, amplified through the reporter's microphone. The racer at the bar clenched at his mug.

"Rookie driver Cross has actually pulled a one-eighty and shot out both Shiv and Cutter's vehicles! I don't believe what I'm seeing folks! The speed! The ingenuity! We'll have to keep our eyes on this boy!"

At the end of the bar, the single man in black threw down the last of his drink and slammed the empty glass on the table.

The racer knew exactly why his boss had insisted he take a holiday; he was interviewing new blood to train on the tracks. The shower of compliments from his employer was bittersweet: You're a champion! No one else can match you in a race, and it's starting to get old. You're so good, there's just no competition—the sport's losing interest.

It was a beautifully wrapped gift box with frilly ribbons and flashy wrapping paper, with nothing inside. But his boss knew his henchman too well. The champion would destroy any who sought after his title, literally. So while the top racer was away, a wet eared rookie could seize his day. The crime lord was planning to replace the champion with a younger, inexperienced driver to restore rates; bring the sport new life and paying fans. It was a brilliant plan for business, but a ruining of true talent.

But he wasn't finished yet.

"You finished with that?"

Razer looked up at the balding bartender who was cleaning a glass with a dishtowel. Wordlessly, the patron pushed the glass forward and folded his arms on the bar.

"Can I get you another one, Razer?"

The champion racer and bartender of the Bloody Hook had developed a fast friendship for how often Razer did business at the bar. Theirs was an amity based on silent, mutual understanding. The racer told the bartender stories, and the bartender would shelve up free drinks from time to time.

Razer raised a palm.

"No, I've had two." He said.

"You planning on going somewhere?" the bartender took the empty glass to the sink and picked up a new glass for polishing, a suspicious eyebrow was quirked.

"I am." Razer said simply. The bartender shrugged, well acquainted with vague answers as a sign to either leave it alone or steer to a new topic.

"Looks like Mizo will have some new recruits under his belt, next few days. It's a shame you know. You should be out there racing—screening for the really talented of the whole motley bunch."

Razer was smiling at the bartender.

"I don't want another drink, Franz."

"I'm serious! All your boys are playing nice and easy with the young pups; I have yet to see a good explosion."

"We will see." Razer stood from the bar and his friend stopped polishing. "Put the drinks on my tab, I must be off or I'll be late."

"Hey, you're not going to do what I think you are? Razer, you'll get the boss angry." The man cautioned, laying both of his hands on the bar, but Razer was not fazed as he continued to the exit.

"Watch the next race." Razer called over his shoulder with a contained smile and swung the keys to his Havoc around his fingers. "I'm sure it will make headlines."

* * *

Across town, a visiting crime lord and his daughter had just entered the richer quarters of the racing stadium, flocked by guards, into a bustling crowd placing bets on the next race. The crime lord's daughter had only just arrived a few days ago on holiday from her private boarding school a continent over, but for her, another type of schooling was in session.

The pair of them looked up at the statistics board, studying numbers and values for the best candidate to gamble on. The girl's eyes scoured the names of driver's and her lips turned into a pout.

"Father, I thought you said Razer would be here today." She looked over to the obtuse man on her left, as his teeth ground at the choices on the board.

"I said, if Razer were here, we weren't going. The money is always on him, and I don't like to split the winnings six hundred ways. And betting on his first kill gets to be redundant. Odds makers have to calculate on his mood, not the factual statistics." The crime lord licked the tips of his fingers while his other hand fanned the heat from him. "Now dear, this is important for business. You're old enough now to be inheriting some of the business very shortly. When do you graduate, spring? We're behind. There are certain essentials you need to know before you can begin managing Daddy's enterprise, skills with subordinates and clients, marketing, finances—then there's gambling. Gambling has the potential to double profits of revenue for the year, but it can be just as devastating if not done properly." Rayn's face was steadily falling with each tiresome sentence, but Krew, unaware of his daughter's discomfort zealously continued. "By stats alone, which racer should we bet on?"

Rayn sighed and looked up at the board again, her mind elsewhere.

Her holiday from school was not much of a break. Her first day home had been all about training to prepare her for taking over the family business. As the sole heiress to a sprawling estate in both business and fortune, she had been given nonstop lessons each day on how to handle every matter of executive officer duty. It was more exhausting than quantum physics and organic chemistry combined, which were apparently useless subjects the way her father went on about money. Not wishing to disappoint him, she humored her father and learned the trade, but with the last days of her vacation dwindling and the lessons hammering on, Rayn was losing steam.

She really didn't want to be here being preached the holistic benefits of gambling; it sapped the enjoyment from the sport. Whatever happened to racing just for the entertainment? Placing the bets made the race stressful and its benefactor coming back, while its loser a violent drunk. That, and she had so been hoping to see the champion on the track. Razer. Sure, she and her friends had shrieked over his close-ups on the telly at school, but here, when she would have been a hundred meters from him held some magic to it. But he wasn't racing.

"Aren't there better ways to make money?" she said.

"Not nearly! Now which racer?" Krew repeated impatiently, angry that his daughter did not seem to understand how crucial a process this was. The real money to be had was in gambling.

Rayn exhaled a small annoyed sound and really studied the board. Odds, weather conditions, racer and vehicle stats in lightning computations.

"Single bet on Cross to win." She said in a rush. Now it was her father's turn to sigh.

"No, Rayn." Krew rubbed at his eyes with one hand. "The better bet would be Shiv to place, or Cross in a wager to show. Ahh, you still have a lot to learn."

Rayn crossed her arms and looked away from her father. Had he really expected her to remember every detail of her lesson on the ride here? All the technical merits and humdrum of racing was nothing like gambling with the girls at cards. Rules here, turn of phrase there; there was so much to consider. A pause to yawn and she missed an entire chapter's worth of her father's lecture, evidently.

"Krew!"

Both father and daughter looked to see the man that had greeted them. Impossibly red hair and brown eyes was an immediate identification of the burly man. It was one of father's friends, a nice man, but unbelievably short-tempered if something aroused his anger. At the moment though, he looked to be in a very good mood as he threw his arms open for the more heavy-set crime lord.

"Solitare!"

The pair of them laughed heartily in a tight hug before parting. Solitare looked at Rayn and held a hand out for her.

"Look at you! You've grown into a young lady, Miss Rayn. Your father must be using up his entire arsenal keeping those boys at bay, eh?" Rayn laughed and took his hand. He released her to put his fists on his hips. "Let me guess, Dad brought you here to 'teach you the ropes.'"

The girl nodded and the man gave a toss of his head like he couldn't believe it, mimicking her earlier impatience. Both man and girl smiled at each other for the quiet understanding when Solitare shrugged and nodded up at the electric stat board.

"It's a good time to learn. New racers on the track, odds makers making new odds. I've got my money on Shiv to place."

"Or on Cross to show." Krew complemented and the men were laughing again before launching into a conversation about the new racers and Mizo's plan behind it, models of the latest combat cars, and so on. Rayn, reminded again of her foolish bet that _she_ had thought was clever, was feeling surly as she waited quietly for her father to place the bets so they could go to their box and sit. In an effort to keep entertained, she glanced around the lobby, looking with disinterest at its tasteful décor of golden framed pictures and slender vases with tropical plants in them matched to the vermillion carpet, while doing her best to aloofly ignore stares of men much older than she was. She knew she shouldn't have worn her school uniform to the races, but all of her best formal attire was still in her closet, at school. Apparently, she wasn't the only one to realize her white collared shirt was a little too snug and her checkered skirt cut a little too short. The guards would stop any who came too close, but that didn't stop them from gawking at her.

Bored despite her best efforts, Rayn's mind began to wander.

It was too bad she couldn't get any of her friends to stay with her for the break, because she couldn't convince her father to let her stay with one of hers. She had been so sure that using the Razer card on them would have won her many votes of spending the two weeks in Kras so she wasn't with her father the entire time. She loved him to pieces, she did, but she was sixteen and needed someone to gossip and chatter about boys to. Her father was an inappropriate choice for such profound, thought-provoking discussion.

She was growing upset again at being tricked herself. Razer not racing was like going to the beach with the mind to tan when the sky was overcast. It was simply unheard of. And she had so wanted to see him. She had gotten herself all worked up (due in part to her friends feeding the frenzy) and the disappointment was almost suffocating.

"Lucky thing Razer isn't racing, eh Krew?"

"Hardly worth betting if the boy was."

"Have you heard? Mizo is planning to retire him. That's why Razer is gone and Mizo's got all these young bloods on the track."

"You don't say?"

"Razer, retiring?" Rayn repeated, rudely butting into the conversation. The crime lords looked at Krew's daughter, but even Krew was struck numb from scolding by how wide her eyes had gone.

"Those are the rumors." Solitare said.

"Good riddance," Krew sniffed coldly, and Rayn looked sharply at her father. "The boy is a menace to the industry. He's always winning and that makes the odds all sixes and sevens. There's no money if there's no odds."

Solitare, a little more sensitive to Rayn's mood, shrugged lightly.

"The champion should have one more month before the cut. You might still get to see him on the track." He said. Krew threw his old friend a nasty glare for encouraging his daughter, but Solitare was prepared here too. "Well, the family is waiting; I'll see you around, Krew. Nice to see you again too, Rayn, don't grow up too fast."

Krew grunted his own farewell and shoved money to one of his associates to place the bet as he and his daughter walked, or hovered on some party's account, to their private box with their many guards in tow.

The next race was about to begin.

The sun was descending in the sky and only a few hours of daylight remained, but the breeze in the stands was warm and fresh and the atmosphere cozy, despite the chilling reminder of inherent danger by their guards posted in every corner of the box. Every public outing saw the family protection on duty, which was always so disorienting for Rayn when she came back from school; but at the end of her holiday, she had grown used to being guarded again and she didn't bat an eye at the reloading clicks of weapons on the sentries.

The buzz of the gathered masses on the boundaries of the Dethdrome was a pleasant background drone as Rayn curled up in her seat with a glass of red wine; illegal for the teenager at her age, but the same laws did not apply to the families of the rich. She sipped at it; the first taste was bitter but settled a little more sweetly on the second. How she had missed alcohol while in school. Krew had settled back into his own custom made seat in the private box the shape of a doughnut, so he could rest his machine on its cushions and let his legs dangle beneath while he leaned back against the pillow bending towards him on a curved metal rod attached at the base of his seat. He too had settled in with his glass and fricasseed flut-flut as an appetizer.

"Don't worry, Rayn dear, the logistics of gambling will come to you. All you need is more practice." He huffed between bites and Rayn was feeling fatigued for him.

"Yes, Daddy."

Krew continued with another lecture of his master planned strategy on how he had placed his bets for the next few races, but Rayn was only half listening. The racers below were starting to line up and G.T. Blitz was getting the audience wound up with an address of the new vehicles on the field and short, revealing stories about the new drivers.

"Do you understand now, Rayn?"

"Yes, Father." She replied automatically with just enough energy to sound like she had raptly heard his every word, and finally he was silent as his own glass found his mouth and the final car came into place.

No Razer.

Rayn was sorry to have missed him, but the excitement of the race was lifting her spirits and her heart started pounding as the cars revved to life and the referees made the final clearances. The racer on the far left of the front line was the one her father had gambled on to place, Shiv. The three new rookies were in the back line. Rayn smiled. Her heart went out to the them because they were toast.

THREE.

The banner light flashed with a simultaneous blast that echoed out over the arena.

Rayn was tense as the vehicles roared at each other threateningly.

TWO.

The audience was cheering through the stands.

ONE.

Rayn gripped her armrests.

GO!

The racers were off! G.T. Blitz began announcing positions and early attacks as they headed up the track, his face on the screen shared with pans of the rolling racers below. The experienced racers put up with the imperfect attacks of the rookies with steady, unbothered turns. Unmoved to be fired on. The take-off was sluggish, but clean as the racers moved into the first turn away from the audience; the cries of the audience were dying as attentions drew to the live action screens above to watch the race. The initial burst of adrenaline was fading and Rayn was settling back in her seat when a streak stormed her vision from the left.

There was an abrupt moment of absolute silence when suddenly the audience was screaming and crashing on the stands.

Rayn and Krew shot forward into their seats with very different reactions.

"I-I can't believe it, folks!" Blitz stuttered, genuinely startled by this turn of events as another player entered the field. "It's _Razer!_"

The screeches of the crowd were paramount as Razer ripped up the straightaway.

Rayn's wide eyes devoured the sight of the powerfully sleek, red and black vehicle as it sprinted, easily catching the distance between itself and the group of racers ahead. The car cut the first turn with all the elegance of a professional at the wheel and barreled down on his first victim just out of eyesight.

Krew's jaw was slack in shock while Rayn's was open in sheer delight.

At once, they looked up to the screen to see a close-up of the champion take a precise shot at the rear tires of the slower rookie, and the offending car spun out of control before colliding with a wall.

Rayn's eyes lit up as the explosion reflected across her eyes.

"Rayn! Sit down!" Krew shouted at his daughter, livid that she was so pleased at this illicit ambush on the track. "That boy is one of Mizo's cronies and our family's enemy! I forbid you to root for him!"

"He's so _fast!_"

"_Rayn!_"

Razer was through the next turn, shunting another rookie into the guardrail, sparks and paint flying as they tore across the track. The rookie's better had pressed in so sharply, so hard, that the guardrails ripped wailing from their posts and the new car slipped over the edge, trapped between asphalt and metal, precariously suspended above the water, but its driver took a swim.

"Another one down!" Blitz was yelling. "It seems like Razer won't stop until every, last driver is out of this race! Let's hope this doesn't get him in trouble with the bosses!"

The audience was going wild as Blitz continued to announce the outrageous proceedings.

Through the straightaway, Razer caught up to two of Mizo's other lackeys and Rayn licked her lips. He wouldn't attack his own compatriots?

The screams were deafening as the champion shot out both Cutter and Edje with minimal firepower before streaking by. Losing speed, both Cutter and Edje did not have the momentum to make the jump over the track and both cars dipped out of sight on its edge as they went into the drink.

Still narrating, Blitz was yanking his tie more loosely about his neck, his voice becoming more agitated with each competitor that fell to the champion. The sentences that normally flowed with ease were becoming more clipped and brusque as the confrontation between champion and challengers went on. Blitz was straining through his report.

Rayn had yet to blink.

Krew was alternately shrieking at the screen for the treason and Rayn for looking so thrilled that Razer had come to play.

Shiv, who had been keeping up with the rookie ahead of him, was now aware of Razer's chaotic devastation heading his way and he was taking the best evasive maneuvers possible as Razer drilled down on him as well. The dance was short and Shiv put up a feral fight, but even he eventually succumbed to Razer's fire as the champion emptied the last of his bullets into Shiv's tires just as he was turning. Now trapped in unstoppable inertia with flattened tires flopping his vehicle wildly around, Shiv also became close friends with the wall. The front of his car compacted and the engine block cracked on impact.

Blitz's purple jacket was off as he gripped the rail before him with one hand and the other held the microphone he was close to chewing as he screamed the details of the latest take down mixed with jumbled comments of unhappy bosses.

The masses were laughing and throwing fists of triumph into the air and cupping hands to mouths to amplify their complete satisfaction at the champion's unexpected, violent storming of the track.

Only one racer remained.

Rayn was deaf to her father's condemnation of the racer wrecking havoc as she sat off the edge of her seat, her heart thundering in her chest.

Razer was bearing down on the final contender, the rookie in the previous race, Cross.

The rookie pulled the same maneuver that had won him praise and first prize in the last circuit, spinning to face the reverse and fire on the out of control champion. But Razer had anticipated the move and was well out of harms way when Cross fired. The line between new wheel jockey and professional became drawn through the melted rubber of gyrating tires across the track. Drifting sideways to face his enemy, Razer depressed a single button and his vehicle bucked beneath him in release to the missiles as they rocketed out of their carriage. The missiles met their mark with deadly force and the rookie's car jumped high into the air, exhaling a mushroom of fire, parts flying, a column of blackened smoke climbing the air.

The noise was deafening as the stands erupted to a roaring, jumping public, crashing up and down on the metal of their seats. The Krew's private box was shuddering. Every last racer registered in the circuit race had been taken out within the first lap by the best racer that ever lived. Though Blitz was shrieking over the microphone, the audience easily drowned him out as Razer lazily drew up the straightaway to the finish line. He picked up some speed and turned sharply, his whirling back tires grazed close to the finish line, but did not cross it. Razer was spinning in circles before the checkered line and the audience went wild with laughter.

"He knows he's won, folks! Look at him go!" Blitz was shouting, an angry wrinkle in his brow, though his smile was still plastered across his face. "Six racers in under ninety seconds on a closed circuit race with weapons to spare—it's unbelievable folks! One for the history books. We all had a good time with that interesting surprise. Of course, this race is now forfeit and everyone who has taken a gamble will be wanting their money back—officials are duking out with the proceedings as we speak. I can only imagine how Razer's boss will react!"

"Bollocks! That bloody, blighter Razer and his two-bit car racing in like that!" Krew was off his seat, raging beside his breathless daughter. "Outrageous! Completely cocked up the race! Mizo can't control his racers! Smarmy pillock won't get away with this. RAYN!" he spun on her, but the girl was much too distracted with the revolving champion to take any notice. "Stop with that gobsmacked look of being so chuffed! That gormless git you're so taken with is a family enemy! Not our sort by any stretch of it! He's a trouble-making, firebranded, cocky menace of a scalawag in Mizo's ranks that needs a good bludgeoning to the head!"

Rayn was still staring fixedly at the racer below not hearing a word her father had said; her breath short, her brow had broken a sweat, and her heart simply would not stop pounding. Her mouth was a wide smile as the champion, the _champion,_ slowed to a stop (still not across the finish line) and stood up in his car. The cameras were all over him as he waved up to the audience, a fist of triumph held high.

Krew was screaming furious now as he flew from the box to confront an official about the disaster of a race that had made his pocket just a little more loose; two of his sentinels following. No doubt to demand a refund and refute the immoral practices of an unchecked crime lord's lackey tearing on the decency of other, upstanding crime lords.

No matter what her father's aim, Rayn was too smitten with the image being flashed across the screens to be put out by her father's temper.

The haughty smile sat lopsided on his chiseled face, thick eyebrows raised over his proud emerald eyes, half-lidded and bright in the sunlight. Rayn had never felt so light-headedly giddy as she fawned over this image, mimicking the real thing below. Someone up there loved her.

Razer looked at the right camera at the right time and his eyes were suddenly on her. Rayn froze, biting her lip.

Ooo! The girls were going to be so jealous when she told them about this!

Razer finally exited his car as the masses overpowered the guards stationed at the entrance to the track as they surged forward to embrace him; bowled over by his surprise appearance and thrilled by the devastation he had caused. Unfamiliar faces were materializing beside the champion on the big screen, and Rayn felt like they had interrupted at the most inopportune moment. She wasn't done admiring him yet. His lips were moving as he spoke to the public, a laugh here, a wink there and Rayn couldn't stand it anymore.

Looking around the box, the two guards left were admiring the racer over the balcony and paying her no mind, her father due to be gone for some time—Rayn glanced back down at where the champion was with a devious glint in her eye, and she rushed from the seats. Skirting straining onlookers and hopping over bleachers, Rayn lightly made her way to the doorway that led to the track. The aisle was packed.

The girl put on her most flirtatious smile and dove into the crowd, bony elbows at the ready.

"Oh excuse me. Pardon me. Coming through! Terribly sorry about that."

The going was easier passing by the opposite sex as unblinking eyes watched her long after she had dug her elbows into a man's stomach. She was finally through the doorway, but beyond that, she grew crestfallen. Razer was swamped by at least a hundred people, pressing him from all sides. Rayn crossed her arms, minding her sore elbows with the understanding that this group would sooner stop an ambulance should the racer collapse, than let her pass this close to the star. Another idea was forming in her mind.

Rayn walked around the circle, stalking and stealing glimpses of the racer wherever she could, but mostly given the only sight of his jet black hair through tall heads. Points of attack eluded her, there were simply no open spaces in the crowd.

Well, that was fine then.

She would stop looking for weak points in the compacted human mass, she thought as she wandered around them, she was smarter than all of them by far. The mass was too occupied to notice her motives as she steadily headed towards the red and black vehicle sitting on its own. When Razer waved for security to remove the mob of fanatical fans, he wouldn't be leaving without his combat car.

She approached the car with some hesitance; this was the same vehicle that had just destroyed six others of its kind; a sovereign machine in all classes of combat car. It was a beautiful marvel of mechanical engineering and elegant design; with sleek curves and sweeping skirts, patterned with pairs of thorns along either side of the red stripe. An expensive car. It sat so still, so innocent on the track; its driver the true master behind the speed and skill—the performance of the vehicle. She was within reaching distance now, and she stretched out a single hand, palm open, to touch the single stripe of red on the hood. It was blazingly hot to the touch; the powerful engine hidden beneath was still cooling after the hunt.

It was calm now, but under the caress of its master, the car would roar alive all teeth and claws and fight. In this vehicle, Razer's second, he had claimed title of champion. In this powerful, robust, fierce car, Razer had taken on countless competitors and destroyed them all. She stood before the instrument of his success, the car that had driven him to the winner's circle so many died trying to achieve, and put his name in the history books.

Wow…a piece of history in the making, here before her…

"Can I help you?"

Rayn couldn't stop herself from starting even though this had been precisely what she was hoping for. She recognized the voice immediately, having watched all of his broadcasted racers and interviews, there was no mistaking it in a crowd. The girl looked up and her mind went blank. The champion stood before her in all his glory on that warm spring day, a distracting tendril of smoke curling about his handsome, shapely face from a lit cigarette, the masses contained by the security to grant her this private meeting, only an arms length from her. He was an intimidating figure. It took some serious mental effort to keep together, but the girl managed it by quickly drawing her attention back to the car.

"Hmm," Rayn hummed and stood up straight from the car, not taking her eyes from it. She might have lost her head to look him fully in the eye. "No, I was just admiring the car. This beater did all the work and it deserves some praise. If you're going to own a bent eight dyno queen, doing a ton down the track, you'd better hope the shoes hold in the meats and the rubber hankies remove the debris after snorting all that zorst."

The silence got Rayn to look over at the racer and smile an innocent smile. She had picked up too much car lingo from the racing boys that would occasionally pop by campus to illegally pick up girls. The same array of girls who would jump three stories to get away from the school for a little while.

She shrugged innocently with the added touch of a wrinkled nose.

"You pick up the darndest things in honor classes."

Razer leisurely inhaled until a length of red ashes hung precariously on the smoke's end before he lazily removed the cigarette from his lips.

"The uniforms have changed."

It didn't matter who treated Rayn with arrogant belittlement, but something in her always snapped when confronted with someone who retained an ego the size of Kras. Though some part of her cringed in agonizing terror, the girl retaliated with an equally derisive comment.

"Oh, you attended an all girl's school?"

Unfettered by the comment, the man continued the dialogue.

"I was under the impression that honor student's don't wear such short skirts."

Rayn could feel her cheeks getting hot and she wanted to pull down at the fabric. She had TOLD the advisory committee the skirts were a mite short; that was the trouble with an all girl school—female leaders could be so catty! And she happened to know that every council head voted the skirt length with those racers from the boy's school in mind. Rayn refrained from giving the man across from her the satisfaction of forcibly holding her skirt down to the light spring breezes. She changed the subject.

"The Havoc V10 has been out for an eternity, why still pilot the V8?"

There was silence. Rayn finally looked him in full in the eyes, a small confident smile that became more juvenile when her eyes met his. Her spite for all things egotistical and arrogant dissolved in his emerald eyes. He was cute! Cuter up close than on the telly. Just wait 'til the girl's back home heard about _this! _The man considered her a moment, an eyebrow raised, before he put the lit cigarette back to his mouth.

"This is a V10." He said, the smoke from his cigarette trailing the air as he waved over the vehicle with it. His other hand went behind his back and his half-lidded eyes blinked at her once assuredly. Rayn looked back at the car; her brow furrowed.

"No it isn't, this is a V8. The grill size is a dead giveaway—and the body kit is too wide. The hood isn't not long enough to fit a V10, unless you modified the single plane crankshaft to fit the even firing 72 degree engine with some serious counterweights to stop nasty vibration in the races." She said, her gaze drawing back to him in earnest. A dark eyebrow quirked and a smile tugged the corner of his lips.

"Where is your father, princess?" The man walked around her slowly, so for one moment, the school girl was caught between vehicle and driver. Unsure whether to break eye contact and stare at the car, Rayn felt the entity capable of its own movement deserved her attention. She followed his eyes as she turned to face him over her other shoulder. "You may get into trouble being here."

The racer was reaching into his dark jacket for his keys, but Rayn was not so ready to be dismissed yet. She had so hoped her knowledge of cars would have piqued his interest, but not so, apparently.

"Oh, like your boss won't be angry with you for coming here uninvited?" the girl countered. Razer took the clumsy stab with grace and tilted his head slightly to the mulling stands and the crowd jockeying to force ahead of security and reach him as he leaned his elbows on the roof of his car.

"The crowd would say otherwise."

"You're not worried?"

"Never."

_Arrogance springs eternal._ Rayn thought indignantly, why did the handsome ones always have to be so conceited? The girl turned back to see the stands of roaring fans when suddenly, a blond haired man punched through the security line. And by the length of his stride, he was bent on reaching the champion, a lethal smile set on his face. When Rayn glanced back to where the champion stood, he was gone. Startled, she swung around to see the racer had reappeared in his car and was revving it to life. She looked back at the blond man, G.T. Blitz, wondering why Razer would want to avoid an interview with such an infamous reporter, the veritable voice of the racing industry, when she saw another man tailing the commentator.

She started violently and backed into the hood of the Havoc.

Her father was hovering towards her, his expression the picture of rage.

She didn't have to see her father's face to know the kind of trouble she was in. After he had gone on and on about his hate for Razer—and here she was, chatting with the champion as though she were taking tea! She'd never be allowed to leave the school again for holiday! _Never!_

Time seemed to slow as imminent doom descended on her, when a shout reached out for her across the void of suffocating darkness.

"Get in!"

Rayn whipped around to the source, shocked to see that the passenger side door of the Havoc was flung wide open to receive her and the champion's urgent eyes on her. She looked forward, the two men only a few strides away and she ducked for the seat.

Her skirt had not even brushed the tightly drawn leather before the car leapt forward and her shoulder was smashed against the seat back. The door came down hard on her knees, painfully bouncing twice, unable to close, but the forces crushing on Rayn had frozen her sideways and rendered her incapable of movement. The muscles in her neck were straining to fight the pressure, but she wasn't even able to turn her head as the vehicle fiercely accelerated to freedom. The first turn was fast approaching and Rayn was going to be sent hurtling out the unclosed door.

The next moment held Rayn's heart in her throat and her stomach at her ankles.

Razer jerked the car in the wrong direction of the turn and Rayn's full body was yanked into the car, her back had slammed against his side. Anticipating the collision, Razer weathered the blow even as the car jumped from the driver's attack. The instant the open door slammed shut, Razer's arms were flying hand over hand to spin his vehicle the right way on their left, and Rayn crashed into the now closed door as the champion drifted through the turn. Now trapped here in the clutches of gravity, Rayn could do nothing to stop her skirt from flying anywhere it pleased.

The second turn on the track reared its ugly head and Rayn rolled as she was thrust against the racer again, precariously balanced, as her shoulder's dug into his side and her legs in the air.

This seemed to be the longest turn in the history of turns. Rayn Krew, daughter of the malicious arms crime lord and Razer, the best mercenary racer in the world, were suggestively pressed together, trapped in the natural forces of nature made unnatural by manmade machine, neither able to move against the other. Her thoughts were running a million a minute and the vehicle moved at an excruciatingly slow pace through time. What was she thinking? Her father would kill her. This man was her enemy and she had become a willing…willing what? Pawn? Prisoner? What was his intent? He was a mercenary! A man paid to kill! She was pressed against the most famous racer in history. The girl's back home would be insane with jealousy. Her father would—well, he would just be insane.

The girl's organs were all shifting towards her throat at the power in the turn, stalling cohesive thought, when finally, gradually, the pressure released its maddening grip through the straightaway and Rayn could breathe again. Her heart was hammering much higher than where it should have been and her limbs had turned to jelly, but her companion wasn't as sympathetic.

A strong arm was shoving her to sit upright towards the open seat.

"That's your side." He said gruffly, not taking his eyes from the road, his strength nearly as forceful as the momentum that Rayn had just been at the mercy of. Her eyes burned. They were fretfully dry. Rayn blinked several times to make up for the neglect.

"Are you trying to _kill_ me?" she huffed breathlessly, straightening her shirt by pulling it down from where it had bunched below her breasts. She threw a demanding glare at him to see the man grinning.

"You have an affinity for teddy bears?"

Rayn inhaled a sharp gasp, eyes as wide as dinner plates, and ripped the hem of her skirt down over her tightly closed legs.

Razer laughed loudly over the roaring wind.

* * *

Rayn had finally been given a moment to settle back into the leather of the Havoc V8's malleable seats, fighting off the gnawing humiliation the champion racer was still smiling about as they roared down the road. She studied him with the outward impression of being aloof, though inside her stomach was wringing into every knot imaginable. The wind from the racer's opened window was rippling through his ebony hair and flapping at his jacket collar as he sat back in his seat; completely relaxed. The perfect embodiment of a man in his element.

Muscles that Rayn did not even know she had were trembling. All she had to do was flinch one of them and their bodies would touch. She was actually in a car with Razer! The thought made her mind hazy and a girlish giggle climb through her chest. Being this close to a celebrity had struck her numb—and his attractiveness was not helping one bit. The stretching silence was awkward; surely she could summon up some sort of conversation? The girl was worried her mouth would not keep up with the mind that was too preoccupied with the man than to strike idle conversation as her eyes drank him in; but she had to try.

"So what did you say earlier, you weren't worried about getting into trouble?"

This was a desperate attempt to turn the attention off her and the present undergarments she was sporting. The ruse appeared to work.

"I'm not an idiot. Blitz would have infuriated my employer if I stayed for an interview. I'd given myself enough publicity with just the race; I don't need any additional violations. And as far as trouble," he smiled, "I recall someone was after you on that track." Finally, the racer's eyes slipped from the road and glanced over to the young girl, the satisfied smile still simmering in the corners of his lips. Rayn unconsciously bit her lower lip with a hum of discomfort.

"That was—" but Rayn stopped suddenly. Her father, the easily recognized man in a hovering dolly, was perhaps not the most well known for his business in arms, excepting those who dealt in criminal affairs. Even so, if the champion racer knew about her father and his position in the underground, this was a dangerous path to tread. Access to knowledge about the Krew family was limited if nonexistent for a reason. How would he know that Krew was her father? She looked over at the racer, brow knitting in a mixture of confusion and dread. "Do you know who I am?"

The man's head quirked to one side in a light shrug.

"Should I?" he asked.

Some of the pressure eased off Rayn, but she still felt rather unstable about the whole thing. It didn't make much sense, why would he have told her to jump in had he known—more so if he had not? The questions were popping up left and right in her mind, and Rayn's lips had begun to haltingly form the first word to the first question, when the man cut across her.

"I saw what I wanted to see, you can jump out anytime." A choking sound was mostly drowned by the wind, but what Razer could hear of it made him smile. Even her pout had an endearing charm about it. The man shrugged and flexed his grip on the wheel. "If I had left you behind, the reporters would have been all over you."

Rayn blinked, startled that he had anticipated her questions.

"And that would bother you?"

"A hostage makes for better negotiations." Another type of smile was forming on his lips and Rayn swallowed. "A champion racer sacking the pack in a closed circuit race before taking off with a pretty school girl in an incredibly short skirt is sure to make quite a story."

Rayn's stomach twisted twice; once for the comment on her attractiveness by such a renowned celebrity and the second for the mortifying jab.

"So this is just a joyride, is it?" Rayn sputtered out, her cheeks flaming hot again.

"If that's what you want to call it." He said. There was a long pause in which the racer laid one of his arms along the open window. "You were right."

Rayn froze, unsure of what she had been right about.

"This is a V8."

"I knew it!" Rayn made a triumphant gesture. "But, you could afford the new model, why not drive it?"

Razer squeezed affectionately at the wheel and did not speak. Rayn waited to hear his explanation, but one did not seem forthcoming and so she settled back into her seat, watching the buildings going by at a more respectable pace than her initial encounter with the vehicle.

Neither spoke for a long while.

The sun was setting in the sky, sending brilliant rays of color to bounce off the buildings and give the street that magical touch of illumination. It was a beautiful time of day as long shadows cast their weight over towering building and alleyway, the sun still warm but the air cooling; and the powerful engine rumbled its lulling hymn through the body of the vehicle.

But one of its occupants thought it was still rather quiet. Unnervingly so.

Without music or the girls chatting nonsense in the back, Rayn was shifting in her seat.

Where were they going?

"How long do these joyrides go for?" she asked.

Not quite so long apparently as the brakes were thrown in at the sight of a trio of combat vehicles at the top of the street. Rayn had to stop from flipping through the windshield by bracing her palms on the dash. Unfortunately, the heel of her hand depressed the second button wired to the weapons cage for rockets. The Havoc ejected two missiles in the carriage overhead as the vehicle came to a stop. Both missiles whistled in the air, unsure of where to go until they found a heated side of a building and impacted with a shattering crash of glass and brick. Both racer and student stared up at the gaping hole in the building before he threw the girl a hostile glare. Rayn smiled sheepishly and tentatively removed both hands from the dash.

"You just gave away our position. And those were my last weapons." Razer ground out, his emerald eyes boring into hers; Rayn felt like she would liquefy if his gaze grew any more heated, but his eyes shot forward again. "Then we improvise the old fashioned way. Hang on to something."

"Hang on to wha-AHHHH!"

A turbo charge fired and the Havoc leapt forward with impossible speed as it powered into a sharp about face as the pursuing cars came down for them. The force crushing Rayn to the door once more left her winded. With some charge left over, the Havoc gained a nice head start as the car shot back the way they had come. Rayn was completely unprepared when the racer's hands flew over the wheel and the car hurried to meet his demand and they careened into an alley on their right. The wall came up fast, but Razer was faster. His Havoc made the tight squeeze in the only direction available to them, left, before choosing another alley to dive into.

Right. Left. Right. Right.

The girl was started to feel pity for the strawberries blended in her favorite smoothies if this was even remotely like the pureeing of the fruits; though her stomach was thoroughly churned. She was holding onto the door handle with all her strength and she was losing. Razer's motions were precise and his vehicle was exact in the execution of his demands. At one point, Rayn actually yanked her fingers in from over the doorframe, afraid that they would become severed at how closely the Havoc came to grinding the wall. No matter what, the young girl was not going to fall against the racer again; if he could sit up straight through the turns, then so could she. So she struggled with the door against the inertia and her failing strength.

At last, the vehicle made a wrenching turn to the right and a blessed straightaway unfurled before them.

They were ripping up the long straightaway before Razer locked the wheel right and Rayn lost her stomach at this latest of circus twists, when they appeared at the top of the street the enemy racers had just been on. Looking ahead, Rayn could just see their pursuers making the first turn right where Razer had ducked into the first alley. But the racer drove on and the girl's heart dropped into the stomach that was well beyond knits and knots to fit properly, and instead of taking the same right he had made, he gave the Havoc one final twist to go left, looping a breathtaking spin into the tightest alleyway Rayn had ever seen. But Razer was too good, too professional to enter the alley like a sane driver, no; the Havoc spun another one-eighty and screamed towards the tight space, in reverse.

The young girl's grip was shot at this point as her manicured nails ripped over the handle and she was flung mercilessly towards the driver's side. Something made of iron snapped down over her chest and kept her steady as the combat car charged backwards into the incriminating space that would prevent either of them from opening the doors once parked. Slowly, very slowly, the Havoc was rolling to a stop and Rayn's scrunched eyes were beginning to peek open.

The dusty red bricks were sailing by the vehicle as it smoothly, astonishingly, glided backwards into the alley. It was the most beautifully executed turn Rayn had ever experienced. Their entry had been as smooth as butter and twice as astounding. The school girl couldn't breathe at the awesome entirety of their escape. No wait, she couldn't breathe because something was crushing at her ribs.

Lain firmly over her chest, pinning her arms to her sides, was a band of black. Razer's arm!

The vehicle slowed and eventually came to a stop. The engine hummed, ready for more action should its master demand more, but the brake lights remained lit.

Rayn studied the arm, reveling how tightly he had held her through the turn, but now hesitant if the intimate moment was over and she should be moving back over to her side like he had indicated earlier. Razer had not moved. Rayn glanced at the arm again and bit her lip, giving her all to restrain the squeal of abject, girlish delight. The champion had his arm around her! Just wait 'til the girls heard about _this!_ The wild ride, the inconceivable high speed reversing into an alley, the racer's arm! Oh they would be beyond jealous—

Oh Mar. How would she ever make it back to gloat if her father kept her under house arrest for the rest of life?

Thinking of her father's furious face and wide open mouth screaming obscenities for the foolish move to jump into the car…it ruined the moment. As though her father were watching her that second, the cramping, debilitating lessons of prudish modesty were descending on her mind and Rayn was growing uncomfortable under the champion's grasp.

There was silence.

Was he waiting for a sign of their pursuers? Why was he still restraining her? The momentum was gone, they were safely stopped, which was a breathtaking miracle in itself when she saw how close the encroaching walls were to each other in the alley.

She pushed against his arm.

There was no movement.

She waited a moment, eyes still, listening, then pushed again.

"Umm, would you—" she began quietly, but he interrupted her with a curt shushing sound, his arm remained over her. She was beginning to blush again. Below her, the man's arm had pressed her torso just right so that it teased open the top of her blouse and another undergarment was exposing itself. Though he was monitoring the street well ahead of them, all the racer would have to do was turn his head to see down her shirt. The girl's amber eyes flickered left then right, seriously considering biting down on the blouse and pulling it into a more modest, covering position. She could just hear the fresh rally of jokes from the racer about _this_ garment, tagged with her piteously _obvious_ attempts at "seducing" him. The moments stretched and Rayn couldn't stand it anymore, she opened her mouth and her teeth clamped down on the collar just as the racer released her. She quickly spit the fabric from her mouth and moved back onto her own side, nervously brushing imaginary dust from her ruffled shirt and skirt.

The coast seemed to be clear and the champion eased back into his seat, his left hand still gripping the wheel.

"That's why I still drive the V8."

Razer had tapped the ashes off the end of his newly lit cigarette as his company was, quite visibly, trying hard not to stare at him in the silence. Razer enjoyed the silence. The only noise he relished was the demolition of other vehicles, and then it wasn't noise; it was a symphony of perfectly choreographed music that only he was master conductor of. But now all he heard was the creaking of leather every time the girl shifted her weight. It was at once extremely irritating and shyly endearing. Well, he was cheating. He had something to occupy him, while his companion could only pretend to be interested in the enclosing walls of the tight alley. Either way, it was very entertaining.

"I'm not even sure how we made it here in one piece." She murmured, awe in her voice as she stared at the wall on her immediate right. She could have reached out and touched the red brick with some stretch leftover. "Where did you learn to do that?"

"Self taught." He took a drag.

"You mean you practiced reversing full speed into alleyways, should the need ever call?" she looked over at him, her voice laden with sarcasm but her body sat strictly face forward, the lightest hunch in her shoulders and the slightest tilt of her head. Razer tapped off the ashes again.

"Practiced? I've never done that before."

The girl's mouth fell open.

"I've been meaning to attempt it." He replaced the cigarette between his smiling lips. "No time like the present."

"You…you mean you never…and you did it anyw-?"

"Don't get your teddy bears in a knot."

But Rayn was looking over the hood of the car, too numb to react to the cheeky comment as her eyes glazed and she relived the moment they went careening backwards into the alley.

"There could not have been a better done maneuver." Razer flicked the finished cigarette far over the hood which caught the girl's attention. He stifled a chuckle; she was like an easily distracted goldfish in her confusion. She continued to stare at the cigarette ahead of them, a single light sputtering out on the concrete in the darkening sky, as he picked out a fresh one and fished for his lighter. "Most girls would be impressed with a maneuver like that. All sorts of screaming and crying." He lit the smoke and returned the lighter inside his coat pocket.

"I'm sure we all will be soon enough." She returned dully. Silence fell on them again and she continued, her eyes still hazed as she looked out to the street. "I've heard you're retiring."

Razer took a drag, allowing the silence to do the same. The young woman looked at him, hesitant to broach the subject further; her eyes quietly beseeching.

"It's not true, is it?"

"Always winning has its losses."

The leather creaked.

"But, but you're a champion…how can they just tell you to stop racing?"

"I don't have a choice."

"You'll just step down?"

Razer hummed a sharp affirmative, an unhappy one, and Rayn did not miss the cue.

"What will you do if you aren't racing?" she asked quietly, wondering how far he would let her pry into his personal affairs. His answer was immediate and firm.

"Sell chocolate."

When Rayn looked at the champion, she could not tell if he was being serious; he had said it so sincerely. His eyes met hers and they studied one another for a moment before his eyebrow quirked mockingly—disbelieving that she would actually fall for that. Rayn giggled off her embarrassment.

"With or without nuts?" she said, raising an eyebrow of implication herself. The racer across from her laughed.

"Awfully sassy for a passenger seat." Razer took another drag on his cigarette and tapped his ashes into the street before exhaling. "I'll do whatever Mizo asks me to. If he does not want me to race, then I will stop…whether I have any say in it or not."

Rayn's eyes dropped and she sat back into her seat. Her right arm came up to rest on the car frame and she stroked it with her fingertips. The painted metal was cool to the touch.

"After that chaotic race, I'd say you're not ready to quit the sport." Rayn agreed with a small, encouraging smile. "The crowd isn't willing to let you go yet either. I was in the stands. I heard them cheering. They're just forcing you to quit so gamblers can throw their money away again." She sighed, thinking of her father. Her stroking stopped. When she spoke again her voice was small. "I'd say you aren't ready to resign either…your storming of a closed track despite the risks, your smile after the race…"

The cigarette burned steadily between Razer's gloved fingers, calling to be attended to, but its owner was preoccupied with the girl across from him, and his gaze suspicious.

"What were you doing on the track?"

Rayn nibbled her bottom lip, wondering whether she should tell the truth or lie. Weighing her options took too long and Razer charged ahead with his inquiry.

"You got in the car when I offered, not knowing what to expect. It's like you were trying to escape."

"My father." She sighed at last. "He means well, but he can get to be overbearing." Rayn's shoulder's rolled and she shifted her head to the side, forgetting how close the wall was to the car and she started. Reeling back, she looked to the racer again, but his piercing green eyes proved too much as her vulnerability blossomed beneath them and she looked over the hood instead. "I-I'm supposed to be taking over the family business after graduation, and it's clients this, finances that—like I'm expected to know every niche in the next five months. Drawing up spreadsheets, deciphering invoices, handling finances and customers; and then there's all sorts of transactions in commerce and methods I just don't like or _agree_ with. I've been scolded for not knowing how to be an accountant, manufacturer and entrepreneur and my father thinks all my schooling has been a waste of time. I'm going plumb barmy!" she sputtered out in a rush. The speech left her panting; just thinking about her future was exhausting, but a spike of fear lanced through her fatigue. The racer had fallen silent. Maybe she had said too much?

Her eyes flickered over at him to see he was watching her intently, and her amber gaze fell into her lap.

"What would you do if you didn't take over the business?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know." Rayn exhaled impatiently. All these demands forced on her and she hadn't even been given a choice on what she might have liked to do with her life. She and her companion were in the same boat, er car, it seemed.

"I hear teddy bear's are all the rage."

The girl looked sharply over at the chuckling man and her eyes narrowed, but a smile was curling her lips despite herself.

"You're never going to let that go, are you?" But the laughter did not subside and Rayn rolled her eyes. "Hey, I've got a mind for vehicles. I could start my own strain of combat racers and cars and—" still the laughter persisted. Getting flustered, Rayn blurted: "I knew your V8 was a V8."

It was another moment before the racer calmed down. His next question was impassive. "How does a school girl know so much about cars?"

"Self taught." She said without hesitation.

The hand removing the cigarette paused as the man studied the girl. It was a moment before she returned the stare, her expression was innocent, the smile well hidden behind her eyes and the corners of her lips, but it was there.

"Then you should know your vehicles."

Razer flicked his second cigarette since their stop over the hood; he had only taken four drags on the thing. He picked the keys to the Havoc up from their place on the dash and spun it once in his fingers. Pressing them into the ignition, the racer backed the vehicle out of the alley with the same precision they had entered in, and spun the car to the open night air. The gear was thrust into park on the far end of the street once more and the keys removed.

Then he looked at the girl across from him and held them out. She stared at them, mouth open, unsure of what he was offering, and _if_ he _was_ offering, unbelieving that he would be. The keys chimed as the hand offering them gave them a shake and the girl looked up at the racer. One of his eyebrows was quirked, a smile pressed into one corner of his lips. She looked back at the keys, one trembling hand reaching out for them, half expecting him to snatch them back for a good laugh, but the offer was true.

Her heart was in her throat as her fingers were closing around the silver keys—

CRASH!

Both riders turned sharply to the source of the deafening sound after ducking a shower of glass to see the rear window of the Havoc smashed in. Rayn inhaled a single, sharp breath that would be her last for the next few minutes as she twisted around to see her father with a club in his hands, flanked by a small battalion of armed guards.

"RAYN! GET OUT OF THERE!" he screamed, as his arms recoiled backwards for another devastating blow to the car.

"DAD!" Rayn shrieked, stunned that he had managed to find them in the darkness.

The Havoc was in motion in under a heartbeat as a cocophany of bullets was steadily pounding at the racing vehicle in their escape. Razer was laughing madly at yet another narrow escape and the shock that had seized Rayn fell away at the sound. The hammering hail of bullets gradually ceased and Rayn was calling out backwards through her open window at the shrinking bodies giving chase.

"Sorry, Daddy!"

Razer was studying the destroyed glass through his rearview mirror. He made a mild noise of indignation.

"Hmm. Tell your father he owes me money for the new window." His brow creased suddenly as his rearview mirror framing the infantry attack behind them added a veering trio of racers. "Shit. If this gets any more interesting, I'll never be able to top it. Hold on to something."

Black gloves alternating with boots switched swiftly from clutch, gas, to shifting up in gears. Every trimmed limb of the racer was in motion. The Havoc was flying.

The giddiness of the champion's offer and close escape from her father was still fueling her system and when the Havoc lurched forward, a very pleasurable twist overcame Rayn's stomach. Her heart was pounding, but not suffocating; her throat was tight, but filled with hot, bubbling laughter. This was _fun!_

Razer had already shown himself more than capable of outrunning his compatriots and their chasing him was little more than a game. A game that Rayn had finally been let in on; and now that she knew the ease of the racer in his art, she was more at ease to enjoy his skill—and consequentially—the ride. He had complete and utter control of the situation. Of all the cars to jump into on impulse, she had chosen the right one.

The Havoc raced down the road. Behind them, screaming metal scrunched against the walls of lesser experienced drivers as the three thugs struggled to catch up to their unruly leader. But Razer was not finished yet.

Through the same tactics he had used before, Razer managed to lose his boys in the maze of the city with an exuberant Rayn laughing heartily beside him. They had fallen for the same ruse _again!_

Her laughter was quickly swallowed by a sharp inhale. Cutter, living up to his name, efficiently cut Razer off from the path ahead and the racer took immediate evasive action—just barely scraping by the apparition of Edje who appeared from nowhere. The sides of the two vehicles scraped and screamed, but Razer was out again with a shout of triumph for his narrow but impeccable success. And Rayn was laughing at the fun of it all. It was all an exciting game of cat and mouse.

The second chase around from Razer's compatriots was more challenging than the first as they swerved violently to stop each other, drifting, screeching, a simple yet thrilling dance of pure adrenaline. Razer would let his chasers gain before yanking the prize from them in a perfectly executed move again and again and frustrations were beginning to show in the trailing trio. They bore down on their target, forcing Razer through one corridor that held a dead end on its other.

But the champion knew that.

The Havoc careened to a stop after having drifted countless meters, where it finally sat, rumbling in idle and waiting to charge forwards again.

Both racer and student looked forward to see a span of sea stretching a gulf between the streets before them. An impossible jump by any professional standard.

They turned to look at each other at the same time. Rayn slowly began nodding.

They both grinned.

A violent shifting of the gears and the Havoc's tires were squealing on the street as their chasers bore down on them from behind. But the Havoc's acceleration was superior to any other car on the market and its pickup was incredible as it surged forwards, all snarling power and force.

Rayn's back was depressing into the seat as the delightful pressure grew to match her exhilaration.

The drop was coming up fast, rising and rising, twenty car lengths, ten, two—

The engine screamed when the wheels no longer dragged against its power and the car soared. A throaty scream of joy was escaping her lips to match the engine as the height of the jump reached its zenith and she and her companion floated in zero gravity for one absolutely thrilling moment before they were falling, falling to the other side; easily clearing the gap. The landing was abrupt after the feeling of weightlessness, but undeniably smooth as the vehicle rolled on effortlessly.

Cutter and Edje, still smarting from Razer's last attack on their vehicles just before a jump, slammed on their breaks and did not follow. Shiv followed suit of the other two. The three drivers could only watch as their quarry escaped, cheering and shouting at their utterly incredible victory.

Rayn had twisted out the window to watch the prowling enemies trapped on the other side of the gap as she howled and pumped her fist into the air.

"CHEW ON THAT YOU TWITS!" she shouted before she spun back into her seat, breathless with bliss for the grinning racer and his impeccable execution of the maneuver. She had the deepest desire to throw her arms around him and kiss him, but she contained the emotion. Barely. "That was bloody brilliant." She shook her head and her sapphire tresses tossed; her amber eyes shining. "You are a champion."

Razer ran a free hand through his glossy black hair.

* * *

"Out."

Rayn didn't think the joke she had just told about gophers was that offensive, but here she and Razer were, pulled over with her driver brusquely telling her to exit the car.

The racer had actually stopped listening to the girl's chattering for some time after their escape as he instead listened to the horrible racket his car was making. It was not unusual to hear armor restraints clanking on the frame after an attack, but something was uneven about the Havoc. He had to be sure.

The driver side door slammed and echoed for some time. The armor plating had taken a real beating if it clattered like a baby's rattle. Rayn pushed open her own door to the car to step out and was shocked at the damage she saw.

Sure, the Havoc had weathered some dents and scratches in Razer's surprise entrance on the track, but before the damage was adequate for a professional in the sport. It had looked nothing like this.

Paint had been scraped clear off door panels and fenders, leaving grey aluminum scars along its body; bullet holes scattered everywhere in the armor like the holes of a cheese grater. A tire was deflated and the vehicle hinged on its injury, unbalanced. Bumpers were bent in, skirts bent up; Rayn could still smell the smoldering stench of scorched metal. The Havoc was in bad shape.

Her amber eyes followed along the car, assessing the damage until she saw its owner squatting down before the grill, testing its stability lightly with his grip. His brow was creased and his lips parted. The school girl could see the pain for his injured vehicle written over his face. The man's lips were moving as he mumbled something to the car. It made her feel guilty for him. She dropped her gaze to where a particularly nasty gash ripped the door panel into two. She reached out to touch the score—

"Do you know how to change a tire?"

Startled, Rayn perked up just in time to see a pair of keys flying towards her head. She clapped at them in sharp, jerky movements, missing them the first time before catching her own efforts of juggling the high-flying keys.

"Tire's in the trunk; jack and wrench in the compartment."

She nodded even though his face had dipped below the hood and popped open the trunk. She froze when she saw the size of the tire. There was no way she had the strength to lift that thick-threaded monster over the lip of the trunk and onto the ground. Instead, Rayn found the small compartment and opened it to find the tools. She selected a wrench and held it for a moment in one fist, still hesitating over the gigantic black rubber doughnut.

"Uh, Razer? I don't think I can get the tire out."

There was a pause.

"Just unbolt the flat one."

Leaving the heavy-looking tire in its place, Rayn walked over to where the car leaned heavily on its injury. Nibbling a lip, she spared a glance at the racer (still occupied) before hurrying back to grab the jack. She knew the instant she picked it up it was expensive; an aluminum sport jack. How often was Razer working on his car—or getting himself into those confrontational scraps to require the need? Returning to the flattened tire, she set the device on the ground and lined the plate to a portion of structure and began to pump up the jack. The smell of oil and metal was familiar, those days she and her father used to enjoy the track with their racers who jumped at the chance to share their cars with a smaller Rayn. And Rayn thought again of her uniform and how improper they were for such an occasion. She should have expected to be fired at leaping into the champion's combat car like she had, but then she hadn't expected him to ride up on a closed circuit either. Now here she was changing a tire for the best racer in the world. Her white blouse was most likely going to get stained and dirty oil was going to cake beneath her French tips. And her mind kept returning to where her skirt hovered every other moment.

Never had she dreamed she would be on her knees, jacking up an infamous vehicle in her school's uniform after being shot at for taking an impulsive venture with the most celebrated combat racing champion.

She jumped when the massive spare tire from the trunk dropped with a heavy thud next to her and Razer moved in to take over. Rayn stared blankly at him, heat rising in her cheeks—his black jacket had been removed, leaving a snugly fitted shirt over a broadly fit chest. She quickly surrendered her assisting station when their shoulder's brushed. She stood and dusted off her skirt with a blush that disappeared when the racer claimed she raised a car like an old woman. Rayn was ready to argue but immediately lost her thoughts when the man's muscled arms quickly and efficiently hoisted the heavy car off the ground.

His hand stretched to her, palm open. She stared at it dumbly.

His emerald eyes flickered towards her.

"Wrench."

The girl almost dropped the tool when she remembered it was in her possession. She handed it to him quickly, their fingers brushing, and the red in Rayn's cheeks was steadily spreading as the racer went about the next task.

He was just as fast working on the lug nuts to remove the tire. One nut off…two…three. Rayn was transfixed.

"Do you do this often?" she teased.

"I've never sustained this kind of damage." Another nut popped off. "I don't think my Havoc can be beaten any further."

Razer pulled the flat tire off and set it aside for the fresh one, shuffling the heavy items as though they were just oversized inner tubes. The girl's mouth was hanging open as he worked.

"You come with quite a price tag, Krew."

Rayn froze. The nagging suspicion had been right after all, but this only raised more questions in the girl's mind.

"So you do know who I am." She said softly, absently watching one lug nut roll freely onto its side. "Why _did_ you offer the ride?"

"I already told you," Razer said around the arrangement of the new tire, "the media would have been all over you."

"That's the only reason?"

"No." The wrench was whirling to replace the lug nuts and the man's answers to Rayn were almost an afterthought. But Rayn pressed.

"What else then?"

There was another distracted pause and Rayn's mind was whirling. He had known her identity all along? And still he had extended the invitation to escape with her father bearing down on her? Why? To what end? He must have known that their meeting was forbidden, but to escalate the potential danger by opening his door to her? It just seemed mad.

"You know as well as I that our being together would cause all sorts of chaos…" Rayn trailed off, hoping he would finish the thought for her. He did. Vaguely.

"Distinctly."

She was beginning to grow frustrated, unable to see his smirk with his back to her.

"So then why? Why take me in like that?"

"You're unusual." His back muscles strained with a particularly fussy nut. Rayn tilted her head to one side to hear him better. Had he called her "unusual?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You have all the airs of a spoiled crime lord's daughter and the high maintenance of a school girl, but you know more about a car's workings than most of the public. You answer me: A smart girl like you throwing herself into controversial danger like that. It's…unusual."

Rayn was nibbling at her lip again as she reached up to tuck a tendril of hair behind her ear. This had to be the most profound insight Rayn had ever heard in her life (never mind that a celebrity was endorsing it to sway her judgment.) She had never heard any of the likes from her father or her friends, yet here, where she had only been in the racer's presence a few hours, he seemed to know more about her than those she had known for years. The man already knew the answer to his own inverted question towards her. She had been escaping. Now she was trying to unveil why he had allowed her to.

"I think you let me in out of spite." She smiled at her own cleverness. "The invasion of this evening's race, destroying the challengers to your title, then the rival crime lord's daughter walks right into your hands—you're punishing Mizo for forcing you to retire."

"You forgot the hostage plan." Razer was giving a final tightening to all the lug nuts, while behind him the school girl's eyes narrowed at the foiling of her brilliant thesis.

"Right." She kicked at the flat tire. "So when your boss cuts your paycheck for storming the track, you have me to trade back to make up for the losses?"

"Very good." The racer stood up from his prompt work, the new tire in place and the Havoc returned safely to the ground. He placed a hand on the roof and leaned into it. "I was considering just dropping you off, but I don't think that will offset what this overhaul is going to cost me." He patted the roof and his smile for her was suggestive. "I may have to ask for a lot more than what I originally intended."

"I'm sure my father wouldn't be narked by that." Rayn's flippancy towards the racer was only skin deep. The man's handsome shoulder's raised, unmoved, as he stooped to retrieve the flattened tire and tools. Rayn was already too far gone to politely remove her eyes from his backside.

"I just opened the door. You were the one who jumped in."

Well, that was true.

The racer walked around her and tossed the tire down, carefully replacing the tools and shutting the trunk. He removed his keys.

"I hate to cut the festivities short, but I now have plans this evening." He eyed the rear window when a particularly large splinter of glass tumbled into the backseat. "My car is in serious need of repairs." Razer began to make his way back to the driver's seat, but Rayn stepped in front of him.

"You would rather work on your car than totty?" she crossed her arms. "Well, I've got you sussed." Razer stared at her, his jaw set unsurely at her proposal. So Rayn tilted her chin up to him and carried on imperially. "I'm not finished yet. Everything's tickety-boo; the car still runs and the night's just started. Whatever you may believe about prissy school girls is wrong. I've always wanted to smash mailboxes. Let's go."

Razer, who had had the majority of the fun that evening, decided to allow Rayn to have her destructive fun on the private property of others unfortunate enough to leave their mailboxes open to attack. She had a wild streak, this one. The school girl was laughing uproariously at each shattered possession, private and city owned, and the racer was shaking his head at how amused she was by it all. But when the police got caught up in the evening's entertainment and Razer's spare tire already in use, he decided it best to take the girl home before she could cause him any more trouble…no matter how enjoyable it was.

"That's it on the left."

The Havoc drew to a stop before Rayn's home, an elegantly designed, three-story mansion built from the richest materials and keenest architectural minds. She was embarrassed the racer had to see how expensively she lived, but she swallowed the shame. Rayn was relieved to see the lights were off.

"I… I had a lot of fun tonight."

"Comes with the territory."

Rayn giggled and curled one side of her bangs behind an ear.

"I sort of wish it didn't have to end. Back to school and all. I'm going to be in so much trouble." She smiled up at the racer, before looking at her shuffling feet on the carpet below the dash. She turned pleading amber eyes to him. "Do we have to stop?"

"We can't hide forever."

The girl sighed to this fact and nodded slightly.

"Right." Rayn shuffled from the seat and out the door, feeling the eyes of the racer on her the entire time. She opened and door and stepped out, very mindful of her short skirts position on her legs, as she gently shut the door. Walking around the front of the vehicle so he would not be able to tear off before she could give a proper good-bye, somehow she had he feeling he would not have even if given the opportunity; she reached his side of the car and paused. He was watching her with his green eyes and she lost her train of thought. She bit her lip and rubbed at her arm. "Well, thank you for the drive."

"My pleasure." He said so smoothly that Rayn giggled stupidly despite herself. Razer's eyes flicked upwards at her girlish transformation, but he was still smiling. "Let me know how the teddy bear business goes."

"I'll be sure to keep you informed." She rolled her eyes, but she too was smiling. "We would make a great business; I'll see to the bears and you sell the chocolate."

"We won't be able to deliver." His eyebrow quirked at her.

"Why not?" she asked, genuinely perplexed.

"You've destroyed all the mailboxes on the west side of town."

The both of them laughed. Somewhere in the conversation, the school girl had inched forwards and she now found herself with her hands on his door as she leaned towards him.

"Good night."

"Good night."

The racer's shoulder had pressed into the door as well, and his chin was raised, lips waiting for hers. Rayn leaned down, her eyes began to close—

"AAAARRRRGGGHH!"

The girl shot straight up at the bloodcurdling scream and to her horror, she discovered her father flying towards them both with a shotgun in hand. Rayn had only a moment to step back before the Havoc was a blur of color and motion as thunder cracked across the street. The dark vehicle disappeared around a corner and Krew was shouting obscenities after it before whipping around to his fawning progeny and clamping a fat hand down on her arm. Scolds and threats were spilling from his lips in furious succession, promising she would never leave the house or school for anything again and she was grounded for the next decade when she did come to visit on holiday—and so on. But Rayn wasn't listening again. The girl was too busy looking up the street the racer had escaped on with a shimmer in her eyes and the most contented smile on her face.

It was not until she revisited the vigorous memories, still feeling the ghost of pressure of her back against the taught leather, after her lectures and punishments that she realized the racer had never once called her by name.

* * *

"You be good dear."

"Good bye, Father."

Rayn pressed a kiss to her father's cheek before she picked up her school bags and walked to the train door.

Her holiday had ended so quickly and here she was again at the train station, dressed, packed, a full breakfast of imported waffles and bacon in her stomach, inhaling the steam of the old locomotive as it hummed waiting for departure.

Mounting the steps, Rayn sighed. She had been read the Riot Act and her amended rights to be put in motion from last night until well into her aging years. To put it simply, her father was very upset with her. Apparently, her last night of fun had been, and would only ever be, that impulsive jaunt with the champion. She silently wondered if he was as resigned to his fate as he sounded, and if their time together had affected him in any way. It was a romantic thought, but implausible. He was a champion living a high-profile life and she was just a girl who had been in the right place at the right time.

Well, at least she had her fun while she could. It was strict working drudgery here on out.

Rayn entered her private train car at the head of the train and tossed her bags into the overhead storage before throwing herself into her seat, loosening her tightly laced frock from her neck as she went. She waited only a moment before she was assaulted by sound; her friends had found her and let themselves in, chattering happily about their vacations. Rayn went about her answers with duress, but did not share her one in a million experience with them. If her father even heard her _mention_ the racer, well, she didn't want to think about the consequences.

The train whistle blared and the locomotive began its weary pull away from the station. Her friends flocked to the window to wave a final farewell to their families who had come to see them off. Rayn remained slumped in her seat, still smarting from her severe scolding with her father to wave her own farewells.

A moment drew by and suddenly the girls were screaming and bouncing up and down in the train car wildly.

-"Oh my—I can't believe what I'm seeing!"

-"Blimey, it couldn't be!"

-"Rayn! _Rayn!_ Come look at this!"

"It's Razer!" They all shrieked in unison with Rayn when she reached the window. Rayn leaned out further than all the rest.

There, chasing the accelerating train was a black vehicle with a single red stripe.

"RAZER!"

Dust clouds kicking up behind his wheels, the champion surged alongside the train through the screeching girls, all holding out hands to touch the drop dead gorgeous celebrity that passed beneath them. Rayn duly noted that the champion's car was as crisp and clean as new. He must not have slept that night…well, neither had she.

His pace was steady; it was apparent he was looking for someone in particular.

Rayn's hips were lying outside of the train as she waved and cried out to him.

The racer spotted her and brought the Havoc up alongside her window. Holding the wheel in one hand and keeping his foot on the gas, the champion picked something up off the passenger seat and stood up, his arm stretching to offer the gift.

Rayn's side-splitting laughter was drowned by the train's engine and the wind as she grasped at a teddy bear. Having taken it, Rayn was shaking her head and grinning from ear to ear, her friends laughing and shrieking unintelligible things behind her. The racer's hand now empty, he motioned she come towards him. The other girls saw this and they grabbed Rayn by the legs before they shoved her out the window.

Terrified by the abrupt, mutinous heave, Rayn's arms flailed, but she held fiercely to the teddy bear. Thank goodness one of her friends had the foresight to hold the hem of her dress, or else it would have flown high over her torso and exposed her to the elements. She pressed herself up from the side of the train with her hands when she collided with it, throwing an incredulous glare at her girls before looking at the racer again. Her hair was whipping about her face and her sleeves rippling wildly as the wind gusted through her loosened collar; but her eyes met the racer's and she was melting, concerned with nothing else but his presence.

She was just a bit beyond reach, so the girl's pushed her out more until they were within the perfect distance—

Their lips touched at the corners, partially lips, partially cheek. Rayn could feel the blood rushing to her face, or more her entire head as most of her body had been shunted out the window, with her legs high above her. She grinned madly and the racer grinned back, winking up at her with a salute before he turned the wheel so the Havoc was drifting away from the train. He held there for a moment, saluting fingers still in the air, before he settled back into his seat and drove away from the tracks and train and back towards town.

The girls were yanking Rayn back in again as she hugged the stuffed bear tightly to her chest. They were pulling on her legs, then at her shirt, then at her arms and suddenly the four of them were on the floor of the car, screaming breathless and laughing at the top of their lungs at the ludicrous scandal of it all.

-"Oh my God! It was Razer! I can't believe it for a second. Razer! Here! He's so cute!"

-"Ooo, Razer! What was he doing here? I should have asked him to marry me. He was _looking_ for you, Rayn!"

-"Rayn kissed him! Our little Rayn kissed THE Razer! I can't _breathe!_"

-"Look girls, look! Look at what he gave her!"

The teddy bear was snatched out of Rayn's hands suddenly as the girls settled and took their seats again, still gushing away at a mile a minute for having been so close to the champion combat racer. All but Rayn. She remained on her back on the floor, breathless, cheeks furiously red, glazed eyes staring at the ceiling unseeing. The corner of her lips was still tingling pleasantly.

The girls crowded around the stuffed animal as the one with the bear was studying the white tag at its ear.

All eyes lit up as the three realized there was a note along with the gift and their heads came together to scan the personal message.

The girl holding the bear began reading the elegantly scrawled note there out loud.

Rayn-

This is a start towards your business. And if that falls through, it should keep your other teddy bears company.

The girls looked up at Rayn in confusion, just as the eyes of the girl on the floor flew open wide.

"Huh, what does that mean, Rayn?"

"GIVE ME THAAAT!"

* * *

**Author's Note: Hi all, and this lovely story of budding romance in the most action-packed barrage of scenarios possible returns to FFN! Enjoy!**

**Blackfire 18**


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